


Saviour

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings/Content: Vampire!Ron. Slash. Angst.<br/>Prompt(s):: Falling in Love; Mishaps with Christmas Trees</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saviour

** Saviour **

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't really be eating this in front of you, should I?"

Ron stared at the bacon sandwich in Severus Snape's hand and wished he could just snatch it away and shovel it down in two large bites. If he tried really hard, he thought, he might be able to cram the whole half in his mouth in one go. He couldn't help but feel wistful as he remembered the beautiful taste of a bacon sandwich with butter and ketchup. He watched as it quickly disappeared into Severus' mouth and then was gone, ceasing his torment.

"I didn't think," Severus said quietly. "I should have remembered that it was your favourite."  
"Stop apologising." Ron shrugged and sipped from his glass of water.

There were a few foods and drinks that his system could tolerate -water; very weak, plain black tea; rare, bloody steak and plain pasta.

Nothing compared to the velvet taste of blood flowing over his tongue, however. He swallowed as he felt his fangs trying to extend. He was not yet used to controlling them. He closed his eyes and willed them to go back to bed.

"You look like today is a bad day," Severus observed.

Ron didn't protest or move away as a cool hand brushed his fringe away and then settled on his brow. Severus remained close, Ron could smell him in the air -not because of any enhanced sense of smell bought on by his recent conversion to vampirism, but simply because he could have smelt Severus Snape anywhere with his unusual scent of tea and herbs.

"Temperature is high," Severus muttered.  
"I'm not going back to the hospital," Ron said flatly, and opened his eyes.

Severus was looking at him with a worried expression. Ron couldn't deny that he was unnerved by the prospect of Severus Snape being worried about him and being so blatant about it. Everything seemed to have moved so quickly that he was unable to comprehend Severus even thinking about him at all. Ron licked his lips and looked at the proof to the contrary; the man had barely left his side since the accident had happened.

Referring to it as an 'accident' was the only way that Ron could think about the happenings of the past month without wanting to jump off a bridge. It was his own stupidity and lacklustre ability as an Auror that had, in his opinion, landed him with a curse he would bear for the rest of his life. The raid should have been simple and they were winning, capturing the band of vampires who seemed content to make a bad name for themselves and threaten the relative peace their society had gained since the end of the war with Voldemort.

He'd turned his back for a second to stun another when one latched onto his back, pierced his neck with his fangs and drank until only the venom would have saved him, which it then did. The next thing Ron had known was the hell of St. Mungo's, not having experienced any major pain or out-of-body experiences, or even sub-consciousness. He remembered nothing to wake up and be told that he had contracted the curse, and that he, forever more, would be a vampire.

He had been on one date with Severus at the point he had been attacked. Just one measly night in a mediocre restaurant, where they had sunk three bottles of wine between them and stumbled home, helplessly pissed, and fell into bed together. Ron had gone into the raid wondering how he could ever face the man again. He came out of it finding Severus by his bedside.

Everything that had gone since seemed like a dream amongst his waking nightmare. Severus had propped him up, offered him blood and Ron had had to learn to accept it. After the blood was drunk, they always ended up in bed, sweating, panting, slamming into one another with such force that it was a wonder that they didn't shatter to pieces. Ron would lay back and gasp as his cock was adored and worshipped and when it was his turn to repay the favour, he became consumed by the thumping blood so close to the surface that he worked until he could chase it away, to save himself the embarrassment of biting in the wrong place, at the very wrong time.

His family had been there, but none of them had been there like Severus. Harry and Hermione had tried but there was something about them which forced Ron into silence: he assumed it was shame, and the fact that Harry had once cut himself accidentally, and after smelling his blood, Ron could never quite look at him in the same way after the thoughts he'd had about his best friend.

Ron shuddered as the images flashed through his mind again. Unable to bear sitting in the kitchen any longer, he pushed his stool back and wandered through to the living room of Severus' house.

"What's all this?" he asked, looking at packed boxes on the floor, which were Spellotaped up and clearly waiting for something.  
"I know you don't feel particularly festive... but it's Christmas Eve tomorrow, and this house looks duller than a morgue."  
"Because one of us should be in one," Ron said drolly.  
"Ha ha," Severus muttered. "I just thought it would be a nice distraction... that you might like to decorate the tree."  
"What's decorating the tree without mulled cider and a mince pie as you do it?" Ron asked glumly, thinking of all the years he'd had at home doing those very things.

There was a pause before Severus let out a hiss of breath and slammed his palm into the wall in frustration. Ron tensed, knowing he had pushed too far with his mood. He waited for the explosion, for Severus to rail at him and tell him he was throwing it all away by being miserable, but nothing came. He looked up and saw the man looking down at his boots, his hand still on the wall; Ron suspected it might be propping him up.

"Look, I'm trying to be supportive," Severus ground out finally. "I know this is hard for you -it would be hard for anyone, but I know it is especially so for you because you blame yourself for the horrific thing which happened to you."

Ron didn't contest his point.

"But Ron, please. For God's sake, it's Christmas. I thought I was the most miserable man on the planet but you're currently giving me a run for my money, even though, I know, you're not a man any more, you're a vampire."  
"Severus-"  
"Let me speak." The tone was stern, the tone that Ron remembered from Potions lessons at Hogwarts. "I appreciate that you might not feel particularly festive. That's fine. Merlin knows it's understandable. But if I asked you to put the blasted tree up, for me, would you do it?"

Stunned by the pleading which had bled through Severus' austerity, Ron stared at him for a good while before he could respond.

"Alright. Let's put the tree up," he agreed finally. "If it means that much to you."  
"It's not the tree that means anything to me," Severus declared, irritated once more. "It's you, Ron."  
"And what's the bloody tree got to do with me?"  
"Because if something doesn't brighten your day sooner or later I really do fear for you and I fear for our relationship."  
"We're in a relationship?" Ron asked dumbly.  
"What did you think it was? Sex with added blood donations?" Severus retorted.

Ron looked away, mortified.

"I am not a man who expresses these emotions easily." Severus paused, as if gathering himself together. "But I cannot deny that since you have been turned, and since we have been spending so much time together, I have come to care a great deal for you. There is a word that I cannot and will not use for the time being because I fear it will ruin everything like it has ruined everything in my life, but I think you know, Ron, what I feel."

Feeling increasingly stupid, Ron couldn't meet his gaze. Severus seemed to be declaring love to him and no words were forthcoming on the tip of his tongue. He just couldn't make his mind work, all of a sudden, when it had been on a non-stop flyer since his accident. His life had been full of sex and blood and difficult thoughts, but he had never thought once about where his time with Severus was really leading. It seemed to slam into him that he was standing in the wizard's house, in front of Christmas decorations waiting to be put up, and he was moaning because there was no mulled cider and no mince pies.

"I'm sorry," he burst out. "Fuck it. I'm sorry, Severus. For everything. You've been nothing but good to me and all I can do is mope about and think about myself. You should chuck me out."

Severus' arms looped gently about his waist.

"It was never meant to be this way," Ron moaned, tipping his head forward. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. This is... this is... I'm sorry."  
"Stop saying you're sorry, I don't want your apologies."  
"Then what _do_ you want?" Ron breathed, desperate to know so that he could atone for the mistakes he had been making for weeks.  
"I want you to help me put the bloody Christmas tree up," Severus said levelly.

Ron kissed him fiercely on the lips and squeezed him tight.

"I'll fill the fucking house with them if that's what you need," he promised.  
"Just the one will do... let's not go for overkill. I have a reputation to maintain."  
"As a vampire wrangler."

Severus bent his head and mouthed a kiss on Ron's neck, mocking the traditional vampiric drinking fountain.

"I love you," the man mouthed against his flesh.

Ron was glad, as he went weak at the knees, that his curse had not robbed him of all his humanity for that moment.


End file.
